


New Oliver

by CJ_fics



Series: MTV Ship of the Year Marathon Fics [10]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, F/M, Post 3x09 speculation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 11:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver comes back from the dead a different man. Told from Felicity's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Felicity couldn’t believe that after everything that has happened in the past two months – all the drama, and the waiting, and the pain, and the sadness, and the hopelessness when they found out that Oliver Queen had perished in the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul – everything seemed very normal now. With a few changes. Some major. Some not so. Some good. Some bad. Mostly a little bit sad.

Just like any regular evening, she was at her command centre in the foundry, facing her bank of monitors and servers, gathering intel on their multiple cases, as the rest of the team sparred in the background. This was how they have always prepared for their missions: She, at her computers, collating and analysing information on their targets, while the fighters warmed trained to battle their foes.

It didn’t matter that the team had grown in Oliver’s absence, now including Laurel, Ted Grant, and their somewhat honorary member, Ray Palmer in his A.T.O.M. suit. It didn’t matter that Oliver took the additions in stride – welcomed them, even, as they needed all the help and allies that they can amass when Ra’s Al Ghul finally comes to Starling City – Felicity still played the same role.

Always the same role, she muses sadly. Tech support. Always tech support.

She shakes off her maudlin thoughts by returning her focus on her research on Darby Van Heller, their priority case. He was an Arrow wannabe without the good intentions and conscience. Over the past month, he had been operating in the Glades, drug trafficking, human smuggling and theft. They have had their eye on him since he made himself known, but his base of operations had remained unknown to the team. Felicity had vowed to pin that information down by the end of the night so the team can put a stop to him.

“Any word on Van Heller?” Digg asks from behind her, taking a break from the five-way spar with Oliver, Roy, Ted and Laurel.

“This will take at least another few hours,” Felicity responds, “I’m still running the triangulation algorithm on the last known sitings of Van Heller and his known associates. I’ve got other searches on-going on.”

“On?”

“Brick’s known associates. Ra’s Al Ghul. The League. Malcolm Merlyn. The usual,” Felicity shrugs.

Digg shows his consent with a quick but gentle squeeze of her shoulder, before he turns his attention to the sparring fighters.

Felicity smiles to herself. At least, Digg is constant.


	2. Part 2

Felicity had always been blasé about change. She was neither for it or against it. She had growing up in Las Vegas, and a mother who had penchant for repainting their one bedroom apartment walls when she had extra cash, to thank for that. She had her childhood visions of what she wanted her life to be like – away from the Vegas strip, in the company of people who spoke in ones and zeros at MIT – to thank for that, as well. She was used to change. To changing. To changes.

She knew change was inevitable, and instead of either lamenting or celebrating such a integral part of living, she would always rather focus on adjusting to change. Change was something that Felicity Smoak took in stride. In a way, she took pride in her ability to recover, to adapt to change, to reinvent parts of herself when change jarred her existence.

Well, until Oliver Queen died.

At that point, she lamented. She cursed that change from a life with Oliver Queen in it, no matter how distant and sometimes estranged, to one that, even in her scariest nightmares she couldn’t fathom, a life without him. When she the repeated DNA testing on the bloodied blade that Malcolm Merlyn brought to lair, coupled with a message from Nyssa Al Ghul, confirmed that Oliver Queen did not survive the battle with Ra’s Al Ghul, for the first time in her life, Felicity couldn’t adjust to change. She failed to cope.

It was only when she realised, two weeks into the period of not being able to cope, two weeks wherein she skipped work for the comfort of her bed, that Digg and Roy were also mourning, and that the city still needed saving, that she was finally able to push herself in being able to function. Largely on autopilot, she reclaimed some semblance of her former life, working with Palmer Tech during the day, and manning the foundry computer system at night to assist the team as they worked to keep Starling City safe.

But she knew, she had accepted, that there will be no real moving on from this. She had lost her ability to change and to adapt because of Oliver Queen.

She would always be here, in the foundry, continuing to support those who would honour the crusade he started. This was her place. This is where Oliver left her.

When Oliver sent a message to the team that he was alive, Felicity had twenty-four hours to celebrate yet another change. She was so relieved that the change that she couldn’t recover from was not permanent, after all; and so happy that Oliver was coming back, that he survived, that she praised change. She welcomed the change that the Oliver being alive meant. How she could finally move on from his death.

No, him being alive, after all, meant that she could remain unchanged. That she didn’t have to learn to adapt to a life without him. And that made her so happy.

So, when she hurled herself towards him when he showed up at the foundry, she was unprepared for the gentle but firm hands that stopped her from full body contact. His firm but gentle hands on her upper arms, halting the big, happy, relieved hug that she was about to give him.

His clenched jaw. His stern mouth. His stiff stance. His distant eyes.

She knew recognised yet another change at that moment, as she stepped away from him then. He had changed.

This was a new Oliver Queen.

Well, not so new, she amends in her mind.

His memories are intact. He knows who everyone is. He still had the same drive to keep Starling City safe. He still had the same mission. He had kept his vow to not kill. He was still the man who would do anything to protect his sister and his city. He was still a hero.

He just wasn’t the man who loved Felicity Smoak. Gone were the small smiles towards her. Gone were the soft eyes directed at her. Gone were the hands on her elbow, her shoulder, the small of her back, always gentle but always sure. Gone were the sweet and supportive words for her.

All that was left was the Oliver Queen who was distant but polite, kind but cold, whose focus was solely on protecting Starling City and his teammates, and preparing for the inevitable siege from Ra’s Al Ghul and his League of Assassins.

Sometimes, Felicity can’t bear this change. This new Oliver Queen. When she announces some useful information to her teammates, and Oliver acknowledges her with a brief nod, barely looking at her, she misses how things used to be. When she forgets herself and reaches a hand out to touch his arm, or his back, and his whole body tenses, she wants to cry at what she’s lost. Whenever she manages to catch his eye and all she can see is a blank look in return, she feels as lost as the kid who’d been abandoned by her father. When she looks to him for comforting words, and all she gets is polite brevity, she mourns for the old Oliver Queen again.

But then she remembers what it was like to live without Oliver Queen, and she knows that she would always opt for a life with Oliver Queen, any version of him, even the one who didn’t love her anymore.

So, she forces herself to live with this change, this new Oliver Queen, and adjusts accordingly. She stays. Unchanged.


	3. Part 3

It’s rare for Ray Palmer to be in the foundry.

Apparently, he is not very comfortable being underground. Some kind of childhood trauma, he once explained to the team. So, when he’s in the Arrow lair, Felicity makes the effort to make him as comfortable as possible. She even gives up her chair for him because it’s the only soft thing in their base of operations. He is her boss, after all, and he’s been sweet and kind to her these past couple of months.

Because you’re his tech support, a snide voice snickers in the back of her mind. Always tech support.

The team was meeting about their plans to finally take down Darby Van Heller. Felicity had pinpointed his base of operations. With that information, Oliver and Digg made plans on how best to apprehend the criminal and his associates. They needed everyone on deck tonight because information they have gathered on Van Heller – well, Felicity mostly – linked his operations with the Triad, so they expected some interference tonight from the Chinese crime syndicate.

That’s why Ray made a rare appearance in the foundry.

It was apparent to Felicity that Ray’s presence was something that not all of her regular teammates were comfortable with. Ray, because he was so used to being the smartest person in any given room, had a tendency to question whatever plan the team came up with. And that had the tendency to infuriate those on the team with bossy, alpha personalities. Which was everyone.

So, it was no surprise to Felicity that instead of the planning and tactics meeting going smoothly, Laurel and Ray were having a barely-polite screaming match with Ted at Laurel’s back, growling at Ray, and with Digg and Roy in the middle, trying to anticipate the point when punches would be thrown.

“Enough!” Oliver finally growls. He had been leaning against the wall, his arms akimbo on his chest, just outside the circle that they had formed when the meeting started, content to listen to Digg share with the rest of the team the strategy to capture Van Heller. He, Felicity and Digg had discussed the plans before sharing it with the rest of the team. Oliver steps in front of Ray.

“But part of the plan doesn’t make sense!” Ray exclaims, “It’s not logical to me, so why would I go with it?”

Oliver takes a deep, calming breath and releases it in a terse exhale before speaking, “Digg, Felicity and I have gone through this plan from top to bottom. If you have questions, we will address them. But changing the plans at this stage is not advisable. We have to quickly or Van Heller will get away.”

“I know, I know,” Ray says, “But, look, we need to discuss, so we can come up with a better plan!”

“We don’t have time to discuss! The window of opportunity closes tonight, and–” Oliver begins.

“So, we’re just supposed to go with whatever haphazard plan you’ve cooked up?” Ray interrupts, “And risk our–”

“You knew that there were risks involved when you got into this business, Palmer,” Oliver growls, “And, if you’re not ready and willing to take the risk then–”

“Then what? I should just go? Do you understand how stupid you’re sounding right now, Queen?”

“STOP!” Felicity shouts as she jumps in the middle of the two men who had progressively gotten closer to each other as they argued. She puts her left hand in the middle of Ray’s chest, and was just about to put her right on Oliver’s when she remembers how he reacts to her touch now, so she leaves her right hand a couple of inches off the middle of his chest.

“Look, Ray, do you have a better plan?” she says in an impatient voice, swiveling her head to face him.

“No, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t come up with a better–”

“Ray. Do. You. Have. A. Better. Plan?” Felicity insists, “Answer the question.”

“No,” Ray concedes.

Felicity nods her head once and then steps away from the middle of Ray and Oliver, “Then we go with the current plan. We don’t have time. And yes, maybe, if we had time, we could come up with a better one, but given what we know, this is the most strategic and tactical plan we have. There’s a time for planning and a time for action. And this is not the time to plan. Can you live with that, Ray?”

“Yeah,” Ray nods.

“Good,” Felicity heads back to where she was seated originally, near her computers, “Everyone take your comm gear and head out.”

“Thank you,” Oliver murmurs from behind her in a low voice, “For helping sort that out.”

Felicity jumps at his words and begins to smile. He hardly addresses her anymore for anything more than to get updates on her intel-gathering work for their missions. He had definitely not gone out of his way to acknowledge her work in any kind of personal way.

Please, Felicity, it’s not like he’s acknowledging you in a personal way, she rolls her eyes at herself. Get a grip.

“No problem,” she says instead, nodding her head, “Happy to help.”

She watches him from the corner of her eye as he walks away.

Always tech support, only tech support, she reminds herself.


	4. Part 4

The team is in the middle of tying up loose ends in capturing Van Heller and his goons when one of her facial recognition searches beep. Apparently, Malcolm Merlyn was back in Starling City. The traffic cams along Gail Street captured him getting out of black SUV, and Felicity had access to every government-installed camera on the city, and had continuously run her facial recognition software on all of them.

Soon after Malcolm Merlyn announced the news of Oliver Queen’s death, as the team was reeling from the shock, he disappeared. At that point, Felicity hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to pay attention to the villain’s next move. She had been too busy not being able to cope with the idea of a life without Oliver Queen to put trackers on Merlyn. So, he had disappeared in the wind, leaving Starling City and his daughter behind.

Thea had looked for him, according to Roy. But after two weeks, Malcolm had apparently sent a message to Thea to let her know that he had some business to attend to outside of the city, and not to worry.

After that, Thea had turned her attention to looking for her brother. She had asked Digg, Felicity and Laurel for information about Oliver’s whereabouts. They had kept the young woman in the dark, and offered her the excuse that Oliver had needed some time away from the city and was loafing around somewhere in Europe. If Thea had doubts about where her brother was, none of them really cared at that point. They were all too busy grieving for Oliver, and continuing the crusade to protect Starling City.

When Oliver came back, Thea welcomed him with open arms (well, after screaming at him for disappearing for about an hour, according to Laurel). So, the status quo had remained.

Oliver had taken very careful steps to make sure that that did not change. He kept his relationship with Thea intact. He spent time with her outside of his Arrow life. He moved back in with her in her loft, partly to keep an eye on her, and partly to rebuild their sibling bond.

Felicity was happy for the Queens. After everything that had happened to that family, she was glad that they still had each other. She was happy that Thea had a brother who would die for her, even though the younger woman had no idea how true that promise was. She was happy that Oliver allowed himself a life outside being the Arrow.

But, sometimes, Felicity envied their relationship.

No, not their relationship, Felicity corrects herself. She envied Thea and Oliver as individuals.

She envied Thea’s ignorance of what had really happened, of what was still happening around her. She envied the confidence in the knowledge that Oliver Queen loved her enough to die for her, to give everything up for her, that Thea had. She hoped the younger woman would learn to appreciate what a gift that was.

She envied Thea for having her brother, her Oliver back. Always. It didn’t matter where Oliver came back from – five years in hell, self-exile in purgatory, the Lazarus Pit – Oliver will always come back as Thea’s Oliver. Old Oliver will always come back for Thea.

She envied Oliver for having a life outside Arrow. For having that little bit of freedom. For having someone to come back to, to rebuild bonds with, even after death.

If Felicity were to be truly honest with herself, she knows she would never begrudge Thea and Oliver whatever happiness that they can find. That they have found. She was more happy for them than envious, really.

Her envy came from her own bitterness. Her own loneliness. And whenever she allowed herself to dwell on what was missing in her own life. Everything that she’s lost. Her inability to change her place, her role, her post, when it came to Oliver Queen.

Shaking the bitter and pathetic turn that her thoughts had taken, she un-mutes her mic, and announces to the team, “Guys, Malcolm Merlyn is back in Starling. After you’re done with Van Heller, come back to the foundry.”

At least, she thinks to herself, she has this.


	5. Part 5

The team had agreed to have Ray and Ted go the last location that Felicity had tracked Merlyn to, sans their vigilante gear but incognito. They were the most logical choice as the rest of the team was known to Merlyn, and they wanted to keep Merlyn blind to the fact that team was on to his presence. As both Oliver and Digg said, the less Merlyn knew about what the team knows, the better.

“All right,” Felicity says, handing Ray and Ted mini audio cameras, about three centimetres in diameter each, “These will stick to any kind of surface. Well, no, not really any kind of surface. I doubt it would stick to an oil slick. Or mud. Or any kind of extremely hot surface. Like a meteor. Well, maybe if the meteor had cooled down. Yeah, these will stick to a cooled down meteor rock–”

“What Felicity is saying is that it should stick to any kind of urban surface. Metal, wood, plaster, glass, plastic, cement, and their artificial counterparts. The backing paper on these things are industrial strength and the glue used is the same one they use to mark rockets that travel to space,” Ray says, smiling at Felicity.

“Right, Ray invented it,” Felicity continues, “So, you can out it anywhere in the location. Just make sure to maybe keep them hidden from view and somewhat safe from the elements. Once you stick them, there’s a tiny button at the bottom of each unit. Press it once to turn to transmitter on. So, I can track what these capture.”

Felicity takes a seat on her computer chair as she finishes, pulling up the software to run the camera bugs, “I’m all set on this end.”

“Gotcha,” Ted nods, and turns towards the stairs, “Palmer, I’ll meet you there. Give you more time to say goodbye to your girl.”

“I’m not his girl! I’m tech support,” Felicity protests absent-mindedly, then murmurs to herself, “Always tech support.”

If there was a hint of bitterness in her tone, she refuses to acknowledge it.

————-

“So, Palmer has not made a move,” Oliver says in a casual voice.

Felicity jumps in her chair, then turns around, her hand on her heart. She thought she was alone in the foundry.

After Ray and Ted reported that all the camera bugs were in place in the perimeter of the location, and Felicity checked to make sure that they were all online, everyone had left for the night. Except for Felicity, who wanted to make sure all the camera bugs remained functional.

“Sorry,” Oliver murmurs, rubbing a hand on his nape.

Felicity steels herself for the effect of such an old Oliver gesture had on her state of mind, and responds flippantly instead, “Your ninja moves will be the death of me.”

“What are you doing back here, Oliver?” she asks calmly, ignoring the sheepish look on his face.

“You’re still here,” he explains.

“I’m just making sure that the cameras are transmitting properly, and checking to see, if Merlyn shows himself,” she shrugs, turning her chair to face her monitors again. Then she starts, “Oh! Were you planning on sleeping here? I’ll get out of your way soon. Give me five minutes.”

At Oliver’s silence, she starts setting up the alerts for any Merlyn sighting before powering down the monitors.

These moments were extra hard for her. These rare instances when she found herself alone with this new Oliver Queen. It reminded her too much of the times when they would be alone in the foundry before Ra’s Al Ghul and this new version of Oliver that came out of that battle. It called to mind the times that they would stay in the lair after a night’s patrol, after Digg and Roy went back to their own lives, as they prepared for the next mission – her with her computers, and him with his arrows and workout routine – in camaraderie, friendship, partnership, enjoying the quiet times together. The old Oliver and Felicity. And those memories hurt.

So, she needed to get out here. Immediately. Before she made a fool out of herself. Before she forgets herself and the fact that new Oliver is there with her now.

Always tech support, Felicity. Always. That never changes.

“What?” Oliver asks from behind her. She didn’t realise he was still close.

“What?” she frowns.

“You said something,” he says.

“No, I didn’t,” she insists, though she had a feeling that the mantra that she has learned to tell herself as a reminder of the status quo, of her new place, of the change, was blurted from her brain out of her mouth. To compensate, she says, “All right, I’m done here!”

She reaches for her bag and puts her shoes back on before turning around to see that Oliver had not moved from the spot where he stood when he first made his presence known to her.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Oliver says in a low voice.

“What question?”

“About Palmer,” he insists.

“Oh, that,” she says, slowly, not sure the reason for this new Oliver’s sudden interest in Ray and herself.

“Yeah,” he responds, folding his arms across his chest, “That.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why the question?” she says.

He’s silent for a few seconds before answering, “Because I need to know what’s going on in the team. If there’s any kind of issue that may affect the way that we work.”

At his response, Felicity realises that in the few minutes of this conversation, she had began to hope that Oliver meant something more with the question. That the old Oliver would come back. She almost hits herself for her stupidity.

Maybe later, at home. After a pint of mint chip. And a bottle of Malbec.

For now, she needs to respond to him, and alleviate this new Oliver’s concerns.

“Ray and I are friends. Nothing more. He’s my boss. And I’m his tech support. Not his his tech support. The team’s tech support. Always,” she says, then she realises that her personal life is none of this new Oliver’s business, “And whatever I am with Ray, I assure it will not affect the team. I will not let it.”

She places her bag on the crook of her left elbow, and walks towards the stairs, “Good night.”

“Felicity,” Oliver says, stopping her with a hand on her forearm, “I apologise, if I overstepped my boundaries.”

Felicity looks away from him as she gathers her composure and her wits. The hand on her forearm burns with memories and feelings of what it was like between them, of a forehead kiss and a quiet declaration of love that trapped her with the inability to move on from him, to change in relation to him. It burns, and it makes her angry.

And she really hates his over-politeness.

She wrenches her forearm away from his hand, and meets his gaze head on, glaring, “I hate the new you, by the way.”

He scoffs, “Well, you didn’t love the old me either.”

That was it! She was sick of this!

“Love?!? Love?!?” she shouts, flinging her bag to the floor, “I didn’t love the old you?!? How dare you! I stayed! I was here! I showed up here, no matter what! No matter how much it hurt! After Isabel. With Sara! When you gave me up! When you wouldn’t even give me – us! – a chance. When you wouldn’t love me enough to try. You wouldn’t even try! But I stayed. I showed up! You have no idea how it hurt! How much of my pride I had to swallow. To be here. To stay here. To see you. Even now, when you’re new and you’re not my friend anymore. And you’re cold, and polite and – and – you don’t even love me! I’m still here! To be you tech support! Always only your tech support! Because I believed in you! I still believe in you! I –”

“Stop,” Oliver interrupts her with a stuttered, sobbing breath, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight, “Stop, Felicity, stop.”

Felicity bursts into tears, crying uncontrollably, clutching the front of Oliver’s shirt. Everything crashed within her in that moment. Her heartache from the past few months. Her broken heart when he gave her up. Her grief over Oliver’s death. Her bitterness over the new Oliver. Her disappointment that she didn’t get her old Oliver back. Her nonstop working hours. Her sleepless nights. Her loneliness. Her hopes that have been dashed. The constant love that she held for Oliver, even when her heart was breaking. Her guilt over not telling him that she loved him before he died. Everything that she had been holding unexpressed over the past few months, over the past almost three years, imploded in that moment.

She doesn’t know how long her breakdown lasted. She had a sense of being carried and laid down on something soft. She felt surrounded by Oliver.

She falls asleep in his arms.


	6. Part 6

Waking up from a crying jag was never fun, Felicity has learned over the years of self-doubt and frustration, and in the last few months of her grief and heartache. And even though, this time, she woke up to the sight of Oliver Queen looking at her with what looks to be a mix of awe, nervousness, and that look that the old version of him reserved just for her, it really didn’t help with her clogged nose, her dry and swollen eyes, her sore throat and the salty taste in the back of her mouth.

She blinks at him, her vision hazy because she apparently lost her glasses sometime in her sob-fest. He reaches underneath her pillow and pulls out her glasses. He puts them on her.

As her vision clears, she confirms that he was staring at her like the old Oliver. He’s lying on his side, facing her, looking at her in the way she has missed. It makes her nervous, so she turns to lay on her back, avoiding his gaze.

She tries to blink the soreness from her eyes, as she thinks of what to say. What does one say after all of that?

“I should get home,” she starts in a subdued voice, taking the easy way out, “I –”

“Felicity,” he says, reaching a hand out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers, but not forcing her to face him, “I’m sorry.”

“I–”

“I love you,” he continues.

That gets her to face him once more, “What?”

“I love you,” he confirms, as casually, as matter-of-factly as he did before he left to face Ra’s Al Ghul, meeting her eyes.

“But–” she moves her gaze somewhere on his chin, unable to maintain eye contact. “You forgot,” she finishes in a small voice.

“I didn’t,” he says gently, stroking her cheek again, “I never did.”

“But you were so cold! So strict! So polite! You were different! You weren’t the old Oliver. You’re the new Oliver,” she cries, “You weren’t the same!”

“I’m not,” he responds, “I’m not the same, Felicity. I’m scared.”

“What?” she asks, moving her eyes back on his.

Oliver takes a deep breath and exhales in a deep sigh, “For the first time in my life, I’m afraid. Of dying. I was never afraid of that. Before Lian Yu, I was too careless, too full of myself, too drunk, too stoned, to ever have considered the thought of it. In the island, I was too busy trying to survive to ever give it much thought. And after – after – there were times that I welcomed the thought. I’ve learned – I thought I did – to accept that death was inevitable in the life I’ve chosen to live.”

“I know,” she nods, “I know you’ve accepted that you would die here. In the lair.”

“Without you,” he confirms sadly, looking down, “I didn’t want to. I told Digg as much. I didn’t want to die down here. But I knew I had to accept it.”

“What changed then?”

He huffs out a breath that sounded like the old Oliver’s way of responding to something that was funny – more than likely, something that had to with her babbling rambles. “I died.”

Tears spring into her eyes, “I know!”

He wipes her tears away, “At first, I saw my dad. Then my mom. Then Thea. I felt at peace with death. Because I had honoured my father’s wishes and my mother’s sacrifice by protecting Thea and Starling City at all cost… Then I saw you– When I kissed you in the hospital – You had your eyes closed and you were just breathing it in – breathing me in – And all that peace was disappeared.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see that again. To feel that again. I wanted to kiss you again, and open my eyes, and see your face. I didn’t want to die. Because that meant not being able to have that again,” he says, tears tracking down his cheeks silently.

Felicity reaches a hand out to wipe his tears with her thumb, “Oh, Oliver.”

She turns fully to lay sideways so she can use her other hand to wipe away his tears. She pulls his head to her neck and holds him as he cries.

“Ra’s Al Ghul will come to Starling, he will come for Malcolm, and Malcolm will use Thea,” Oliver says desperately against her neck, “I will find myself in the same situation as I did before – Only this time – I’m afraid. I’m scared to die. I don’t want to die.”

“So, don’t,” she says in a sure voice, “Don’t die. I don’t want you to die. I want you to live, Oliver!”

“I thought, if I kept my focus on the work, on the mission, it would be better,” he says, “It would be better for everyone. For you, if I wasn’t the same person anymore. It would be better for me, too. I would regret dying less, I think, if I didn’t–”

“What? You didn’t have any attachments?” she asks, pushing him away from her neck so she could look into his eyes, “That’s not the way to live, Oliver!”

He didn’t have a response to that, so Felicity continues, “When you died, when I found out you died, I was inconsolable. I grieved you, Oliver Queen. I wanted to die at the thought of not being able to see you, talk to you, listen to you, ever again. A large part of my grief was about everything that we could have been, everything we could have done together, Oliver. I would have traded an arm and a leg for just one more hour with you, where I can store more memories of you, with you, in my mind, in my heart. But I never regretted everything that we had experienced together. I only regretted that we didn’t have more. I regretted that I wasn’t brave enough to tell you how much I loved you.”

“I saw you,” he says after several minutes of silence and not meeting her eyes, “I saw you and Palmer kissing in your office.”

She gasps, “When– how–”

“Digg told me that you were upset about what I told Carrie, and I wanted to– I don’t know – Not have you so upset,” he continues, “I went to your office to – I don’t know, I had no plan. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t as upset as Digg said. I don’t like it when you’re upset …”

“Oliver, it was–”

“Felicity, you don’t owe me any explanations,” he interrupts, “You never did. This is not what this is about.”

When she opens her mouth to protest or to explain, he adds, “I thought you and him were together, after that. Why wouldn’t you be? Palmer’s a smarter man than I am. I knew he wouldn’t have let you go after getting to kiss you. I barely kissed you and I knew then that there will never be anyone but you for me. For life. I think anyone who gets to kiss you comes to the same conclusion.”

He smiles sadly, “And that’s fine. I mean, I’m glad – No, not glad – I’m fine – No, I mean – It’s only right that you have options, Felicity. Why wouldn’t you? You’re remarkable, I’ve always known that. And anyone would be lucky for you to chose them. I know that. I can accept that.”

She thought she had no more tears to shed after the last night. She was wrong. She could feel tears running down her face as she listened to Oliver.

“Was that why you were different when you came back?” she asks quietly.

“Partly,” he says, “I mean, I’m scared about Ra’s Al Ghul. I knew I needed to focus on preparing for when he comes for me again. So, I didn’t question – I couldn’t dare to question – you and Palmer. It was better for you, anyway. He’s better for you, I mean.”

“How can you say that?!?!” she exclaims, hitting his shoulder ineffectively, “How can you even think that I would – could – want to be with – After – I –”

She stops speaking then. Utterly upset.

How could he think that she would ever want to be with someone else, anyone else?

“Ssh, ssh,” Oliver murmurs pulling her closer to him, placing her head on his chest, “I’m so–”

“You,” she whispers, “I choose you. Always.”

He sighs, and nods his head.

“Will you choose me?” she asks tentatively.

He pushes her gently away from his chest, and meets her eyes, “Yes.”

For the first time in months, Felicity smiles.

/end

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic after 3x09. I finished and posted it for the MTV Ship of the Year Marathon.


End file.
